


Tea and Cookies

by KittycatthelilDevil



Series: Teach Me To Live [3]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, The Phantom of the Opera (1989)
Genre: Erik is a Child, Fluff, I’m tired, Love, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27500233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittycatthelilDevil/pseuds/KittycatthelilDevil
Summary: “Momma! Momma!”A powerful roll of thunder boomed from outside like an angry god flashing their strength for all to see. Droplets of rain fell ferociously against the roof practically drowning out Eriks panicked cries from just down the hall. Christine winced as she was dragged into drowsy consciousness, her blood beating against her ears being the only thing she could hear.After a tense moment came and went she blinked her eyes open, her vision slowly adjusting to the darkness of the room. She froze up when Eriks sobs hit her ears, her gaze moved to the bedroom door and her chest twinged tight with worry. Without thinking of how cold it might be she forced herself up out of the warmth of the bed, shuddering with a minor regret as she pushed the heavy blanket away.
Relationships: Christine Daaé & Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Series: Teach Me To Live [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733803
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Tea and Cookies

“Momma! Momma!”

A powerful roll of thunder boomed from outside like an angry god flashing their strength for all to see. Droplets of rain fell ferociously against the roof practically drowning out Eriks panicked cries from just down the hall. Christine winced as she was dragged into drowsy consciousness, her blood beating against her ears being the only thing she could hear. 

After a tense moment came and went she blinked her eyes open, her vision slowly adjusting to the darkness of the room. She froze up when Eriks sobs hit her ears, her gaze moved to the bedroom door and her chest twinged tight with worry. Without thinking of how cold it might be she forced herself up out of the warmth of the bed, shuddering with a minor regret as she pushed the heavy blanket away. 

She slid her dressing gown on slackly, pressing her lips together as she stepped into the black hallway. She did her best to ignore the cold air that enveloped her in a chilling embrace, pulling the dressing gown closer to her body, a sad attempt to imitate the warmth of her duvet. 

After lighting a lamp, she made her way to his bedroom door. She swallowed thickly, reaching over to grip the door handle, turning it and pushing the door open. 

“Erik?...” She spoke softly, voice a bit gravely. Erik's eyes blinked open as her golden voice filled the gaps of silence between the roaring thunder from outside, something comforting at last. He whimpered faintly and sat up. 

“M-Momma…!” Christine frowned, lifting the lamp so the light could touch him. His blue eyes were wide and glossy, his hands on either side of his head, fingers curled tightly in his black strands. He often pulled at his hair, getting too anxious or scared. It was a bad habit she was still working to break, his hair was thinning enough as it was. 

She sighed, shuffling over and setting the lamp onto the bedside table.

“Erik…” She whispered as she seated herself on the edge of the bed. He whimpered, his thin build moving eagerly across the covers and to her. To some this may look a bit unsettling, perhaps even scary. But to Christine it was simply her child longing for her comfort, something he had only recently discovered he was entitled to just as anybody else. 

His movements were shaky as he wrapped his arms around her, she gazed down at him lifting her arm around his form to brush her fingertips across the back of his head. This made him shiver, closing his eyes tight and pressing his face into her side as another loud boom could be heard. Christine leaned down, just enough so she could press a gentle yet loving kiss to his forehead.

Erik froze up beside her, the simple action tugged his lips into a weak smile and he relaxed again. 

“Momma…” A soft warmth was draped over her whenever the name slipped past his lips, it was something she could never tire of. And even with a face like his, sunken in and twisted, his smile brightened her world. 

Upon the first few weeks of Eriks arrival she’d never experienced him smile, it was rare to find him looking anywhere but the floor, and even when he wasn’t he never dared meet her eyes, fearful if he did she may try and harm him. It did hurt her a bit in the beginning, she desperately wanted for him to trust her! She kept repeating to herself that this was new to both of them, Erik was still unfamiliar with this treatment, likely very confused. 

Overtime Erik had grown accustomed to horrible things, the marks on his body were seemingly endless, every groove and every bump permanently engraved into his skin was a nasty memory, playing a big part in why he pushed her away. But Christine was never one who gave up easily, she was very well his last hope for a happy life and she wouldn’t let this opportunity slip through her fingers. 

Erik had long been denied any kind of gentle touch, he had always been handled by people with horrible intentions, and because of that the only way he knew how to react to a brush of her fingertips against his cheek was with a dramatic flinch. He expected her to hit him, grab him harshly by his hair and flash his face for all to see. All he wanted to do was get away- she could see it in his eyes, and being there were no bars to hold him in one place he succeeded. 

To anybody else Erik may have been deemed a lost cause, after all who would want to put in the work to a child with a face like his? Regularly hiding away, akin to an abused animal, but there really wasn’t much of a difference. She’d overheard one woman describe him that of a walking corpse. It was the specific tone she used that offended Christine- A loud whisper, dripping thick with disgust as she leaned over to her husband.

It most certainly bothered Christine, Erik was a few mere inches away from the woman doing the best she’d ever seen him in public. That was until he just happened to hear her ‘whisper’. She was quick to pull him away, but not before she had a few… Colorful words with the woman. 

Overtime touches were stubbornly accepted, he used to push his bottom lip out into a pout as she cupped his cheek. Though he was supposed to be upset, she really couldn’t see it as anything else but adorable. After she had gained his trust, it was hard not to tug him close and hug him every few minutes, though he always made a surprised whine of protest.

Christine pulled him just a little bit closer, so he was gently pressed against her. He was safe, she wanted him to know that he was. Christine smiled as she remembered the first time Erik allowed her to hold him this way, it was quite a surprise to say the least. He scrambled to get to his feet and bolted to her, he clung to her dress, snuggling up to her side, staring up at her with a sort of hope trancing his eyes. Silently craving for the motherly love he had been long denied.

At any other moment she was sure she wouldn’t know how to handle the situation, but when she met eyes with Erik a sudden urge overcame her. All she wanted to do- all she could do was kneel down and pull her arms around him, holding him close. She was truly honored to be the one Erik put so much of his trust into. It clearly wasn’t a common thing for him. 

“What’s wrong, angel?” She asked, Erik only sniffed and shook his head, he couldn’t say it, besides his crying had to make it obvious enough, his little fingers curling desperately into the fabric as if she would be ripped away from him at any second. 

A small exhale brushed past her lips, Erik had never been fond of storms though he never liked to admit it. 

“Alright...How about we go into the living room?”  
——————  
Erik watched the soft orange of the candlelight flickered dimly against the dark in the room. The vague shapes of furniture was discernible but the colors had been drained and muted into an almost grey tone. He had seated himself in a plush red chair, its cushions easily engulfed his small body. 

When he was alone the room appeared so much wider than reality, shadows draped most every corner which the weak candlelight couldn’t reach. Erik gulped, his eyes glued on the doorway to the kitchen where Christine had stepped through only moments before. 

Something wouldn’t settle right with him, he tried to push it away but it would only squirm its way back up to the surface and nag at him for his full attention, always stronger than before. Erik knew Christine was just in the next room and she would return shortly, but in his anxious state of mind he couldn't help but put together the worst possible happenings. 

As time went on Erik found it was becoming harder and harder to distract himself, deep routed memories were starting to seep into mind. Things he hadn't thought about in a long time, but why was he thinking about that now? Christine was still there! She wouldn’t leave him. She’d given him far too much to leave him now. Erik couldn't deny the fact that he probably couldn’t have survived this long if it wasn’t for Christine, all the bad things simply vanished when she was in the room. 

He would lose himself while wondering why someone like Christine would even want him here. Other times she managed to catch his interest with things like baking or reading, it would be a lie if he said he didn’t enjoy finishing off the sweet contents of the bowl. The thing he loved most was spending his time with Christine, anytime anywhere it was always worth it in the end. 

It took a while before he realized how odd the things she did for him really were, having not lived any kind of a decent life. It started out with the things she said, before she left the room after she laid him down to sleep she would smile and tell him goodnight. To most that may have been completely normal, but to him it just didn’t seem right. It would make his stomach get tight and queasy, he simply wasn’t used to being treated so well he was waiting for her to get mad and yell at him for something- anything! But she never did...

It took a few long months until Erik got used to these new habits, he wouldn't flinch or tense up when she went to brush his hair back. He sometimes faltered, but quickly recovered to meet her touch. She would chuckle, sliding her hand down to cup his cheek, and tell him how proud she was of him. 

Those words made his stomach fizzle with a new feeling, a feeling that pulled his lips into a smile. He adored her attention, especially when he didn’t need to ask for it, simply being granted the privilege of her touch made him giddy, having never been given such love and admiration from anyone before. 

He could remember the first time Christine leaned down to press her lips against his forehead. He stood there frozen, eyes open wide in shock for a good minute. When he could move again all he did was blink, trying to piece together why Christine would do that. He inwardly cringed as the memory of him bursting into tears and curling up on the floor played in his mind. Fifteen minutes had passed before he finally let Christine near him, she asked him what was wrong and why he was crying. All he did was wrap his arms around her, burying his face in her side. 

The moment Christine stepped into the room Erik perked up and she smiled.

“Your back!” Erik blurted, Christine paused. 

“Of course I’m back. I was just in the kitchen.” She said, setting a tray onto the coffee table. 

“I-I know…” Erik mumbled a moment later after realizing how silly he had been for worrying so much. 

He took the moment of silence to examine the tray. A teapot sat off to the side, blue floral details running along the porcelain. It was easily recognized as her favorite pot, he recalled her telling him once a close friend gave it to her as a gift. Christine drank tea quite often, it was one of those adult things he could never really understand but didn’t ask any questions, he didn’t feel any real need to, he was just happy to be with Christine.

He sometimes would wonder what was it about tea that made drinking it such a serious habit? Was it really that wanderous? He paused, his attention instantly hooked as he spotted the plate of cookies sitting in front of him. He lifted his hand off the couch reaching eagerly for the plate only to freeze up halfway, glancing at Christine. 

A subtle smile graced her lips, she was clearly amused by something he had done. And suddenly it hit him. He quickly pulled his hand back to his side, his cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.

“M-may I have a cookie please?” He mumbled. If his real mother saw him now, hell, if his real mother knew Erik had survived past the age of seven Christine was sure she would faint. Seeing Erik behave so nicely, remembering to say ‘please.’ and, ‘thank you.’ Christine did her best not to think about his real mother, it was a waste of her time, but it wasn’t always in her control to stop it. 

She knew very little about his time with his real mother, the first time Christine saw him the poor boy was in a cage. Even if his body was patterned with bruises and scars, his face caked in grime, eyes dull as he stared back at her through the bars he still managed to look so innocent to her. She stared at him af few seconds longer before she replied.

“Of course, Erik. You needn’t to ask, I got them out for you.” She told him, letting out a half hearted chuckle. Eriks body sunk into the couch, now feeling rather silly as he heard her laugh. 

“O-oh...”

Christine frowned, knowing expressing her amusement may have put him in an awkward position. So, she took a cookie from the plate and pushed it his way. 

“Here.” Erik blinked at the treat in her hand, his brows furrowed together in hesitation, eyes moving up to meet hers. He took a breath, telling himself not to get upset over something so silly. He reached for it and his hand twitched, half tempted to swat the cookie out of her grip. 

Here he was trying to be polite as she always requested and she laughed at him! She had no right! She was supposed to be nice to him! He huffed, quickly swiping the cookie from her hand, though he was a bit angry he had no intentions of wasting a perfectly good cookie.

“Thank you…” He muttered, looking away.

“Your welcome, Erik.” She hummed, kneeling down in front of the coffee table to prepare her drink. Erik peeked over to watch her lift the pot from the tray, tilting it over her cup so the steaming liquid fell into it.

Erik wouldn't admit it but he was thankful for the treat, lord knows Christine had fed him more the small amount of time he’d been there then he’d eaten in the entire time he was in that blasted cage, desperately eyeing anyone who passed by hoping they may throw their scraps at him.

All of this seemed too good to be true, he feared it was a dream and one day he would wake from his luscious slumber to face a countless crowd of faces through metal bars. People staring at him with disgust yet slight interest, some tried to keep their distance others had no problem getting up close just to shove their fingers at him and laugh as if it was their last. How could god let such a creature walk this earth? Erik shuddered, he could still hear them spitting those brutal names at him, names he would never forget until the last breath he took. 

There was only one word Erik used to describe Christine, Angel, he breathed it out the first time he caught a glimpse of her in the tent. To him it felt wrong to see her as anything else, what else could he see besides perfection? It was funny really, why would god stick him in a cage and then gift him with someone so caring and kind? His own mother threw him into the vicious clutches of reality without a second glance, leaving Erik to wander upon his existence. 

Why was he here?

His mother's words were ongoing in his mind, never ending. Her voice as sharp as any blade, the words she used were harsh cutting deeper than anything that physically could. She told him things he couldn't rid of, it was like a scar, a permanent mark forever etched into his mind. No matter where he went or how much time passed it would always be there. 

But then her voice wafted out of the darkness, not his mothers, it was rich, luxurious, it was perfect. It pierced through that cruel voice spitting words in his ear, words… Words he knew he’d heard before but now it was all fuzzy. What was it she had said? Then again, why did it matter? He didn’t care, he just wanted to hear this song forever. 

All that mattered now was that voice, that wonderful graceful voice. Her voice must’ve been made of pure gold, he was in her arms now, he was safe, she would guide him into a harmless sleep. Erik found himself staring at her, his eyes shimmering with wonder. Christine simply smiled, a small yet blithesome smile, sipping her tea quietly. Erik was quickly put at ease, just seeing her smile made him calm. This wasn’t a dream, not even God would tease him like this. 

“Christine?” Erik spoke softly, barely over a whisper. 

“Yes dear?” She lowered the teacup from her lips. 

“Why...Why does…” He trailed off, his mistake did not go unnoticed.

“Why...Do you…Drink tea?” He corrected himself in a mumble, tilting his head slightly. Christine paused, as if she needed the spare time to try and put together an answer for his question. She swore the simplest things were the hardest to answer.

“Well...It's good for you.” She replied with a small shrug, taking another sip from the cup. Erik lowered his eyes to stare at the cup, the same patterns from the pot drawn along it. He looked up at Christine again, now terribly curious. His lips parted slightly only to press together again. 

“Can Erik have some?” He asked, interest weaved in his voice. 

Christine turned her head to peer down at him, slowly inching the cup away from her face as she went to answer. 

“Do…You really want it?” She asked. He responded with an eager nod.

“Please.” 

“Okay,” She shifted herself just slightly upon the couch, searching for a comfortable position. The cushions beneath her seemed almost too lavish for her comfort. When she was able to settle with minimal issue she patted her leg.

“Come here.” Erik tensed up, swallowing hard he shook his head. 

“It’s alright, Erik.” She assured him in a soft tone. The boy looked up at her, eyes wide and uncertain. She gave him a warm smile, sensing his uncertainty. 

“It's alright..” She repeated.

There was still a mass amount of uncertainty weighing down his desire to climb into her lap, entitling himself to collapse in her affections. But that smile- oh that smile. He was unable to stop himself from moving closer, entranced by the loving glint in her eye, he wriggled his way into her lap, his body slumping against hers, the content sigh that brushed past his lips seemed to let loose all the tense energy in his body.

He was always comfortable when he was with Christine, so comfortable that even the silence didn't bother him, and that was saying a lot. Erik had always hated the silence, even the crowds hissing those names at him- names that he had yet to forget- was better than when he sat in the silence of his cage, his breathing rough as he struggled to take air into his lungs. 

She setted her arms on either side of him, holding the teacup just under his chin so he could reach it. Erik lowered his gaze to the cup, feeling the liquid's warmth rise and tickle his skin. The soft aroma of floral sweetness invaded his nostrils in a solacing manner, pulling him closer to the cup. 

“Careful. It's still hot.” She warned him as he lifted the cup to his lips, Erik waited, staring at the liquid. He simply nodded, cautiously pressing his lips to the porcelain. Christine stayed still a moment longer, giving him the chance to pull away if need be, before she gradually tilted the cup just enough so the tea could hit his tongue. 

That was when Erik flinched, barely getting any of the taste before a sharp tingle of pain burned in his mouth. Instantly he recoiled, staring at the cup with wide eyes swallowing hard which only worsened the pain.

“Owie!” He whined, Christine was quick to set the cup onto the table.

“Erik- I told you it would be hot.” She said, Erik frowned turning to look up at her, he knew that! He wasn’t deaf!

“You wouldn’t say it would be that hot!” He exclaimed, but soon realized that had sounded a lot nicer in his head then when he had said it aloud. Christine sighed, shaking her head. 

“Erik…” She tried only to get cut off.

“No! You should’ve told me it would be that hot!” Christine put a hand to her head, she wasn’t in the mood for this.

“Erik-“ He gritted his teeth.

“It's not my fault!! You!- You did it!” He hissed. 

“Erik!” She raised her voice that time, just enough to strike some much needed fear into him. She didn’t like to but Erik was simply getting to be too much, and if she hadn’t she knew he was just gonna walk all over her. 

Erik froze, he opened his mouth to fight back, feeling as if voicing something would hide his newfound anxiety, but nothing came out. He swallowed thickly, closing his mouth, huffing quietly simply waiting for her to do something. The silence settled over them for a while, neither one of them knew what to say to disturb it. 

But then she gently grabbed his chin, tilting his head back so she could kiss his forehead. Erik stiffened, eyes growing wide, a soft loving warmth pulled him close when she did this. Goosebumps rose on his skin, he yanked himself away from her, turning to look up at her. 

“No...no...Erik...he- he didn’t ask for…” The rest of his words faded off into silence. There was a slight shift from Christine's next movement. 

“But doesn’t Erik feel better now?” She leaned over just enough so she could attempt to look him in the eye, Erik turned his head away from her, not wanting her to see his face. He never liked it when she saw him, all of him. No way to hide, it was just Erik. 

“No…” The boy muttered, his tone edged off with what she could only assume to be attempted annoyance. 

“No?” She repeated, arms cautiously snaking around his waist. She felt him tense up before he slowly relaxed again, he didn’t reply that time.

“Aww, well we can’t have that.” She pulled him close, nuzzling her nose to his cheek. Erik squeaked in surprise, 

“C-Christine!” He cried, a noise that resembled a giggle left him. He squirmed against her grip.

“N-No! Christine!” His cheeks were flushed a bright red. 

Christine, who was now happy she could see his smile, decided to surrender and release him. Christine's eyes moved back to the cup, and she reached for it. “It shoud be cool by now..” She spoke, referring to the idea of him trying it again. Eriik paused, eyes wandering to the cup.

She felt him press himself closer, as if to hide himself from the once steaming liquid. 

“Okay…” Came his uneasy murmur. When Christine brought the cup to his lips, Erik kept himself away from it, silently debating whether or not to lean forward and take a sip of the liquid. He could still feel the tingle of the burn on his lips, what if it wasn’t cooled down? He exhaled, pushing himself to stare into the cup. 

Christine decided sitting back was her best option, she didn’t want to startle him a second time. Erik found it was hard to keep away from the cup, the sweet sent pulled him closer. He wrapped his fingers around the heated porcelain, the warm itch at his fingertips made the nerves pumping through his veins slowly fade into a calming pulse. 

Without really realizing it he pressed his lips to the edge, tilting the cup just enough so the liquid could hit his taste buds. Erik shuddered, the liquid was light and watery yet with the hint of floral sweetness kept him drinking. He hummed softly, eyelids fluttering as the warm liquid slid down his throat.

“Well?” She whispered, “How is it?” her words were fuzzy to him, having lost himself in the luscious taste, so simple yet it seemed to take quite the effect on him. He smiled lazily, as if he was on some kind of drug.

“It was good…” his voice came out in kind of a slur. 

Christine was not surprised, she had been told children were not one who appreciated tea, they were young and full of energy. Tea to them wasn’t natural, it wasn’t surgary enough, its taste was dull so they simply did not care for it. They needed their sweets, it fueled their seemingly endless load of stamina. 

But Erik was not alike to most children, he never had any desire to run, jump or scream for no reason. He liked to spend his time at the piano, Christine wasn’t sure where a boy his age had learned to play so well, she highly doubted his mother took any time to teach him. 

It was a moment before she discovered how quiet Erik had gotten, not even so much as movement had been detected. She glanced down at him, she blinked in surprise when she found his eyes had fallen closed and his chest moved slowly with his soft breathing. She smiled, carefully taking the cup from his hands and setting it on the table. She grabbed a quilt draped over the back of the couch, setting it over his body, she leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Goodnight, Erik.”

“Night, momma.”


End file.
